e of going away
for a time...he seemed unhappy...but he told me he was coming back to
see you first--" She broke off, her clear eyes on her friend's; and she
saw at once that Bessy was too self-engrossed to feel any surprise at
her avowal. "Surely he came back?" she went on.

"Oh, yes--he came back!" Bessy sank into the cushions, watching the
firelight play on her diamond chain as she repeated the restless gesture
of lifting it up and letting it slip through her fingers.

"Well--and then?"

"Then--nothing! I was not here when he came."

"You were not here? What had happened?"

"I had gone over to Blanche Carbury's for a day or two. I was just
leaving when I heard he was coming back, and I couldn't throw her over
at the last moment."

Justine tried to catch the glance that fluttered evasively under Bessy's
lashes. "You knew he was coming--and you chose that time to go to Mrs.
Carbury's?"

"I didn't choose, my dear--it just happened! And it really happened for
the best. I suppose he was annoyed at my going--you know he has a
ridiculous prejudice against Blanche--and so the next morning he rushed
off to his cotton mill."

There was a pause, while the diamonds continued to flow in threads of
fire through Mrs. Amherst's fingers.

At length Justine said: "Did Mr. Amherst know that you knew he was
coming back before you left for Mrs. Carbury's?"

Bessy feigned to meditate the question. "Did he know that I knew that he
knew?" she mocked. "Yes--I suppose so--he must have known." She stifled
a slight yawn as she drew herself languidly to her feet.

"Then he took that as your answer?"

"My answer----?"

"To his coming back----"

"So it appears. I told you he had shown unusual tact." Bessy stretched
her softly tapering arms above her head and then dropped them along her
sides with another yawn. "But it's almost morning--it's wicked of me to
have kept you so late, when you must be up to look after all those
people!"

She flung her arms with a light gesture about Justine's shoulders, and
laid a dry kiss on her cheek.

"Don't look at me with those big eyes--they've eaten up the whole of
your face! And you needn't think I'm sorry for what I've done," she
declared. "I'm _not_--the--least--little--atom--of a bit!"

XXIV

JUSTINE was pacing the long library at Lynbrook, between the caged sets
of standard authors.

She felt as much caged as they: as much a part of a conventional
stage-setting totally unre